


Waking Up

by xtremeroswellian



Series: Metamorphose [2]
Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: Airplane, BAMF Heather Lisinski, Bombs, Breaking and Entering, CIA, Cheyenne - Freeform, Danger danger danger, Dreams, F/M, Feelings, Friendship, Grief, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Hawkins, Loss, Mentions of Past Torture, PTSD, hurt Jake, tyranny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: "There's someone within this government that's dead set on detonating the bomb here."She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again, staring at him. "Jake, there are over a million people here," she whispered."I know. It's why we're here."
Relationships: Heather Lisinski & Trish Merrick, Jake Green & Robert Hawkins, Jake Green/Emily Sullivan, Jake Green/Heather Lisinski
Series: Metamorphose [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752766
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

It had been only a few short weeks since Heather Lisinski had last been in Cheyenne, Wyoming, but as she drove into the city limits, she was taken aback by how much it had grown in that short time. There were dozens more buildings--most belonging to J&R, and the new flag was flying in front of each one. She grimaced. Since the first time she'd laid eyes on that new flag, she'd been left with an unsettled feeling. 

This was not her country. 

This was a Corporate nation and J&R owned it. 

Drawing in a breath, she nodded at the guards at the security check point, who waved her through. She'd made it to Cheyenne. She had no idea what she was going to do next. 

She'd left her entire life behind in Jericho--or what little was left of it anyway. 

"Personal reconstruction," she murmured, chewing her lower lip. It was all she had now. 

***

"Every entrance to Cheyenne is covered with guards. If they see your face, the entire military will be on you." Jake paced the small cabin, glancing at Hawkins at brief intervals. "So what other ways are there to get in?" 

Hawkins watched him pace the length of the floor for a long moment. "I'm not sure there are. At least not any conventional ways." 

"Then what, we hitch a ride with a convoy heading that way?" 

"That's a thought," he said with a grim smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Not exactly what I had in mind though. And it wouldn't be fast enough." 

He stopped, turning fully to him. "Then what are you thinking?" 

"You know how to fly a plane." It wasn't a question. He'd done more than his fair share of research on everyone in Jericho when he'd first arrived. 

"No. Forget it." 

"You have a better idea, Jake? Cause I don't know if you noticed, but time is running out." 

He folded his arms. "Yeah, okay. We can just steal a F-A18 no problem. No one's going to notice one of _those_ missing." 

"That doesn't matter," Hawkins responded, shaking his head. "All that matters is us stopping that bomb from going off and killing millions of innocent people." 

"It won't work." 

"I'll do this myself." Hawkins turned and headed for the door without looking back at him. 

Jake followed him, clamping a hand down on this shoulder. "If we're going to do this, we can't go half-cocked." 

"Your grandfather had a plane." 

" _Had_ , Hawkins." 

"I've seen it, Jake." 

"It doesn't work." 

"It's not in that bad of shape." 

"It won't fly." 

"It'll take a little work. We'll manage." 

He shook his head. "You don't understand. The only person who could have fixed this is in Cheyenne." 

Hawkins raised an eyebrow. "You underestimate my training," he said with a look before heading out the door. 

Jake let out a sigh, exhaustion still coursing through him. Blinking and shaking his head to stay the need for sleep, he followed Hawkins outside. "Hawkins, stop." 

"There isn't time to stop." 

"I'm coming with you." 

"Good." Hawkins simply nodded and did what he always did: led the way. 

* * * 

Hawkins stared at the small plane in the shed behind E.J. Green's cabin, his eyes dark. "I think we're gonna need a little help." 

Jake cast him an 'are you kidding me?' look. "You think?" 

"Round up the rest of the Rangers. I'm gonna get started." 

He nodded. "Okay." 

He drew in a deep breath and moved to get his tools. 

Walking a few feet away from the shed, he pulled out the walkie-talkie Hawkins had acquired for him. "Eric, get all the Rangers out to the cabin. We need all the help we can get." 

"What's going on?" Eric asked, his voice crackling over the static. 

"Hawkins and I have a plan to get the bomb back from Cheyenne. It involves Grandpa's plane." 

There was a moment of silence. "We're on our way." 

* * * 

Less than an hour later, all the Rangers were assembled in front of the shed. Most with a puzzled look on their faces.

Jake looked around at them. "I know you're all wondering why you're here. Heather's in Cheyenne and she needs our help and fast." He stepped back from the shed and opened the door to reveal the plane. "We need to get this thing in the air as soon as possible." 

Bill frowned deeply. "What's going on, Jake? What kind of trouble is she in?" 

"I'm not sure yet but we need to get to her." 

"Even if we fix that thing...who's gonna fly it?" Jimmy asked uncertainly. 

"Jake is." Emily's voice was quiet and she gazed at him. "Aren't you?" 

Jake nodded. "Yeah." 

"Jake." Eric stared at him, worried. "You're not up to that. You're gonna get yourself killed." 

"I'm not going to get myself killed. And no one else knows how to fly this thing." 

"You're exhausted. You haven't eaten, you've barely slept...a few hours ago you were dehydrated," he pointed out. "None of that signals to me you're okay to fly, or even drive for that matter." 

"This is something I have to do, Eric. No amount of arguing or protesting is going to change my mind." 

Emily shut her eyes at his words, dropping her head. "Jake. Eric's right." She swallowed hard. "There has to be someone else that can do this." 

Jake looked out over the rest of the rangers. "Any of you know how to fly this? Any of you go to flight school?" 

The entire group was silent. 

He turned back to Emily. "I rest my case." 

Hawkins looked around. "We need to get busy." 

Jake nodded in agreement. "We need this working in twelve hours and counting." 

"If not sooner." 

"Then we better get busy." Stanley's quiet voice made everyone turn around. He stood a few feet away, Mimi at his side, holding his hand. 

Stepping forward, Jake made his way over to his friend and wrapped his arms around him. "It's good to have you here."

Stanley hugged him back. "Heather's in trouble, right?" 

"Right." 

"Then let's do this." 

* * * 

Heather looked around the streets of Cheyenne with uncertainty. Everything seemed perfectly normal, and no one questioned her presence the way they would have a few weeks ago. It was like Cheyenne itself had become its own little country and she was but a tourist. She turned to head down the street when she caught sight of a familiar face, her eyes widening with surprise. "Trish?" 

Trish gazed at her for a moment, uneasy about the person that had just called her name until she realized who it was. Surprise registered on her face. "Heather?" 

"What are you doing here?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed as she crossed the sidewalk. She'd only met the other woman a few times in passing, but she knew she'd helped Jericho on more than one occasion at the risk of her job and even her life. 

She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "I had to come back. I told Bonnie..." Her voice died away at the mention  
of the young girl's name. 

Heather flinched a little. "You were friends." 

"Yeah," she said quietly. 

"I'm sorry." She reached out and put a hand on the other woman's arm. 

"Thanks," Trish looked up at her. "Why are you here?" 

Heather looked down for a moment. "Let's just say I was in a little over my head in Jericho." 

She nodded a little. "Listen...I'm heading back to my place right now. Do you want to come?" 

She glanced at Trish, surprised by the offer. "Well...I don't really know where to go from here, so...sure." She managed a small, grateful smile. 

She smiled as well. "Follow me." 

Drawing in a breath, Heather looked up at the clear sky above. Maybe starting over wouldn't be as difficult as she'd imagined. 

* * * 

Emily watched as the Rangers worked on fixing the little plane she'd spent part of her youth watching fly around above Jericho. She looked at Jake. "I should've stopped her." 

Jake glanced at her, confused. "What do you mean?" 

She ran a hand over her face, looking weary and guilty. "I should have tried harder to stop her from leaving." 

He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know you tried your best." 

"Did I?" Her voice was quiet. 

"You don't know how not to," he murmured, leaning forward and kissing her lightly. 

She kissed him back, resting her forehead against his. "Jake, I think...it wasn't just about Beck finding her. Or Constantino for that matter." 

"What other reason do you think she had?" 

Emily shut her eyes for a moment and pulled away to look at him. Then she took him by the hand and led him outside of the shed, away from earshot of the other rangers. "Heather's in love with you." 

Jake furrowed his eyebrows. "I know she liked me..." 

"It's more than that," she said quietly. "Heather doesn't do anything halfway, Jake. It's all or nothing." 

He let out a breath. "I can't believe this." 

"Really?" Emily gazed at him intently. "Because I know you're not really that blind." 

He shook his head. "It's not that..." 

"Then what?" 

"I love you...you know that, right?" 

"I know, Jake." 

"And I love Heather too, but I just...I don't know." 

Emily was quiet for a moment. "I know one thing." 

"What's that?" 

"She's my best friend. And we're gonna bring her back." 

He nodded. "Damn right we will." 

***

Trish and Heather got to Trish's apartment almost a half hour after meeting. Opening the front door, Trish let Heather in first. "It's not much...but here's home." 

She smiled a little as she stepped inside. "Kinda reminds me of my place before it burned down." 

"You lived in an apartment?" 

"Yeah. I was on a third-grade teacher's salary," she said with a wry grin. 

"I know how that goes," she said, smiling as well. 

"J&R doesn't pay well?" She looked at Trish with faint surprise. 

"Not really for its lower employees." 

She nodded a little and drew in a breath. "So, are you back in Cheyenne for good?" 

She shrugged. "For now. I might be sent somewhere else." 

"You don't wanna go back to Jericho," she said quietly, not asking. 

Trish shook her head. "Not really." 

Heather looked at the floor. "I get that," she whispered. 

"She was just so young..." 

"Eighteen," she said softly, moving to sit down at the small kitchen table. 

"Did she even graduate high school?" Trish asked, sitting down across from her. 

"Yeah, last spring," she murmured, tracing circular patterns on the table. 

"Oh," her voice dropped. 

"I tutored her in chemistry and physics," Heather murmured. "She and Stanley were the first people I really got to know in Jericho." 

"I'm so sorry.' 

She nodded wordlessly, blinking back tears. "I don't suppose you have anything to drink?" 

"Yeah," Trish motioned to the refrigerator. "Help yourself." 

She rose to her feet and moved to the fridge, pulling out two strawberry wine coolers and holding them up, glancing at Trish questioningly. 

Trish nodded her approval. 

She handed one of them to Trish and sat down with the other, opening the top and staring at it for a long moment. 

"She wouldn't want us doing this, I suspect," she said quietly, opening her own drink. 

Heather considered that for a moment. "I don't think she'd be upset with us over one drink." 

"Not one drink, no." 

She held up the bottle and clinked it with Trish's. "To Bonnie," she whispered. 

"To Bonnie," she echoed. 

Heather shut her eyes and took a drink. 

Trish did the same, savoring it. 

"I wonder if anything will ever be normal again," she murmured. 

"Who knows." 

"I'm not sure I'd even know what normal was if I saw it again." 

She chuckled softly. "Yeah." 

She took a long drink of the wine cooler, leaning back in the chair and shutting her eyes. She wondered if Jake was conscious yet. 

* * * 

"I think we're done," Hawkins said, moving away from the plane and looking at Jake. 

"Good," he said, looking everything over. "Good." 

"You ready to test this?" 

He nodded. "Let’s get this thing out of the shed." 

Hawkins nodded as well and the rangers moved aside as Jake climbed into the plane. 

Once outside, Jake glanced around. "Everyone clear?" 

Emily gazed at him intently. 

"Emily, I'll be fine. It's a test." 

"I know." She moved back away from him, forcing herself to take a deep breath. 

Closing the top, he reached forward and started the engine, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as it started. 

"Come on, Jake," she murmured. 

He eased on the gas, steering onto the open stretch of field before him before bearing down more, feeling the plane pick up speed. 

The breath caught in her throat as the plane lifted into the air moments later. 

"I'll be damned," Bill muttered. 

Jake let out a laugh as the plane took off. They'd done it. 

Tears stung Emily's eyes as she smiled, watching the plane circle above them. 

After circling the sky a few more times, Jake landed the plane smoothly and opened the overhead compartment. "Good job everybody!" 

"I guess this means you're off to Cheyenne." Stanley gazed at him. 

He nodded. "Yeah, I am." 

He drew in a breath and moved forward, hugging Jake. "Be careful." 

He hugged him back. "I will. Watch out for everyone. And watch out for yourself." 

He nodded slightly, pulling away. "Bring her back." 

"I will," he turned to Hawkins. "You ready?" 

"Let's get this show in the air," Hawkins replied wryly. 

Jake shook his head at the reply. "Backseat's all yours." 

He simply smirked. 

* * * 

"Jake?" There was confusion in Heather's voice as she gazed at him through the foggy Cheyenne streets. Her eyebrows furrowed and she wondered how he had gotten here, and more importantly--why he'd come. 

"Follow me. Now." 

She stared at him a moment, but slowly followed him anyway, looking around warily but not seeing anyone else in sight, which made no sense considering the population of the city was now over a million. "What's going on?" 

"You're in danger." There was urgency in his voice as he looked around the deserted town again. 

Heather shook her head a little, gazing at him. "Danger...is Constantino here?" There was a hint of apprehension in her voice. 

He shook his head. "It's a different kind of danger this time." 

"Jake, I don't understand." She took another step toward him. 

"You will. We need to get something for Hawkins then you'll know." 

"Hawkins," she murmured, feeling unsettled. "Jake--" 

"Heather, we don't have time to do this now." 

A loud explosion rumbled somewhere in the distance and she looked toward it, her eyes widening. "What's happening?" 

"Shit," he murmured, falling to one knee. "You need to find him, Heather." 

"Jake!" She turned her attention back to him, quickly moving to his side and kneeling down beside him. 

He drew away a little. "Find Hawkins. Tell him I sent you. He'll tell you what to do." 

"I'm not leaving you!" 

"You have to!" 

Hot tears stung her eyes. "Jake--" 

He put his hand on her arm. "You can do this." 

"What if I can't?" she whispered. "What if I screw up and let everybody down?" 

"You won't. You're gonna do fine," he said quietly. "I believe in you." 

Heather swallowed hard, then nodded slowly. "Okay." 

"Now go," he said, looking back as a dust cloud threatened to bury them. "Go!" 

She rose to her feet as she fought back the panic building within her. 

And then Heather began to run for her life. 

* * * 

She sat bolt upright on the sofa, gasping for breath, a hand pressed to her chest as the urgency from the dream lingered in her mind. She shuffled the covers off her legs and stood up, moving across the dark room to look out the window. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

"Jake," she whispered, her eyes dark with worry. 

***

The first hour of the flight was relatively silent, each of the men engulfed in their own thoughts. As they entered the second hour, Jake toggled the radio connecting him and Hawkins. "How did you get a hold of my files?" 

Hawkins smirked a little, glancing at him sideways. "CIA access." 

"Thought so," he shook his head a little. 

"How long's it been since you've flown?" 

"About a year and a half." 

Hawkins nodded a little and looked out at the dark sky. 

"Feels good to be back up though," Jake said, pulling up a little more on the control. 

"Always feels good to do something you were meant to do." 

He nodded in agreement. "We should be there in another hour." 

He was silent for a few moments. "Jake...when we get to Cheyenne my main goal is to find that bomb." 

"I know." 

He nodded slightly. 

"And you know I'll help but...I need to find Heather too." 

"I understand, Jake." 

"Where's our rally point going to be?" He glanced sideways at the older man. 

"I've been thinking about that. I think we need to find Gray Anderson." 

"Gray? You think he can help us?" 

"Yeah. I think he can. He'll already know where things are and may have some ideas on where the military took the bomb." 

"Right. Good idea." 

"We won't have much time to waste." 

"I know." 

"We should land a couple miles outside Cheyenne. I don't think the Cheyenne government would take too kindly to unknown aircraft flying over their city." 

"No, they wouldn't. I'll find somewhere to land where it won't be likely to be discovered." 

"Good." 

Jake took a deep breath in, holding it for a moment before letting it out. "You think this is going to work?" 

Hawkins' eyes were dark. "I don't know." 

* * * 

After the dream she'd had in the early night hours, Heather hadn't gone back to sleep. She hadn't even wanted to. She was on edge, nervous, and couldn't stop worrying about whether or not Jake and Emily and the rest of the rangers back home were safe and all right. The dream had left her with an unsettled, foreboding feeling that things were not as all right as she hoped they'd be when she left.

Trying to set aside her anxiety, she moved around Trish's small kitchen, fixing eggs, bacon, and toast. She wasn't the world's greatest cook, but she knew enough to get by. 

When she was almost finished making breakfast, Trish appeared in the room, yawning as she made her way over to the kitchen. "Smells good." 

"Well, I didn't burn anything," she said, managing a smile despite the weariness in her eyes. She scooped the food onto two plates and carried them to the small table. 

She sat down as Heather placed the plate in front of her. "Well it looks delicious." 

Heather sat down as well, pushing the eggs around on her plate for a few moments before taking a bite. 

"You were up early," Trish said quietly, taking a bite of her own eggs. 

"I didn't sleep very well," she admitted, not looking up. 

"Nightmare about Jericho?" She guessed. 

"Good guess," she said softly. 

"I'm sorry," she murmured." 

Heather drew in a breath and let it out slowly, looking up. "I just have this terrible feeling that things are gonna get worse before they get better." 

"Funny," she looked down, pushing the rest of her food around on her plate. "I have the same feeling." 

* * * 

"How far outside the city do you think we are?" Jake climbed from the pilot's seat and jumped onto the ground. Stifling a yawn as he did so. 

"Couple miles at most," Hawkins responded, glancing at him sideways. "You all right?" 

He nodded. "I'm fine." 

"All right," he said, accepting it even if he didn't entirely believe it. He didn't have time to believe it. 

"We need to get going," Jake said needlessly as they both started forward. 

Nodding shortly, Hawkins set the pace as they set off toward Cheyenne. 

* * * 

Heather walked the sidewalk that ran in front of the head J&R office building, staring up at it as she moved, unable to shake the feeling of dread she'd been carrying around the majority of the day. She drew in a breath as she realized the sun was setting. Curfew would be in effect in less than an hour. She raked a hand through her dark hair, mumbling an apology when she ran into someone without looking at them. She stepped aside and then kept walking. 

Exhausted would be an understatement for how Jake felt as they entered the city of Cheyenne. The streets weren't as full as he had imagined they would be, although he suspected that a curfew was in place. Looking around at all the buildings, he shook his head a little at how many bore the J&R crest. 

The whole city was just one big business. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, in fact, that he ran into someone walking down the street. When he heard the quiet apology, he stopped and turned slowly. It couldn't be, could it?

"Heather?" 

The familiar voice made her freeze mid-step. She shut her eyes for a moment, wondering if she was hallucinating. 

"It is you," he murmured, backtracking to her. 

She slowly opened her eyes and turned to look at him, her face the picture of shock. "Jake?" An odd sense of Deja vu washed over her. 

"Yeah, it's me." 

Heather stared at him for a moment, puzzled just as she had been in her dream. "What are you...what are you doing here?" 

"I came to take you home," he said softly. 

"Jake...I'm not going back to Jericho." 

He shook his head. "Why not?" 

She paused. "Because...there's nothing left there for me to do. Did Emily send you?" 

"I came with Hawkins. You can't stay, Heather." 

Sighing softly, she looked up at the J&R building. "I'm okay, Jake. I'm safer here than I was in Jericho anyway. Farther away from Constantino and Beck." 

"You're not," he said, lowering his head. 

Feeling uneasy, she turned her head to look at him once more. "Are you saying one of them tracked me here?" 

"It's bigger than that." 

"I don't understand." 

"The government took the bomb Hawkins was harboring." 

"The bomb...what bomb?" Heather stared at him, wide-eyed. 

He took a breath. "You remember that page we had to have you steal from Beck's office?" 

Like committing a felony was something she was going to forget anytime soon. "Of course." 

"It contained radiation scans of the area. And...Hawkins had one of the bombs that was supposed to go off in Jericho. If Beck had seen that page..." 

Her face paled even more. "Are you telling me Hawkins had a nuke in his _backyard_?" 

He nodded, expression grim. "I am." 

It took her only a moment to begin putting the pieces together in her mind and she turned away from him. "He was supposed to be a terrorist...but he wasn't. He was one of the good guys. And now he has the only proof in existence on who really caused the bombs." 

"Not anymore." 

"Now the Cheyenne government has it." A wave of nausea swept over her and she turned to face him again. " _Here?_ " 

"Here," he confirmed. "Hawkins is looking for potential places they could have taken it. But there's something else..." 

Heather wasn't afraid of much, but she was afraid to know what else factored in. "What? What is it?" 

"There's someone within this government that's dead set on detonating the bomb here." 

She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again, staring at him. "Jake, there are over a million people here," she whispered. 

"I know. It's why we're here." 

"To stop it," she murmured. 

He nodded again. 

Heather swallowed hard, then forced herself to draw in a breath. "All right, so where do we start?" 

"We wait for Hawkins to contact us." 

"We need to get inside," she said suddenly, watching as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon in the distance. "Curfew's almost in effect." 

"Where--" 

"Trish Merrick's apartment. It's where I'm staying. We have to hurry." She took him by the arm without thinking and headed down the sidewalk, her heart beating quickly at the looks of suspicion armed guards were eyeing them with. 

Jake followed without protest, keeping his gaze straight forward. 

Her grip tightened on his arm just a fraction as she nearly ran into one of the guards. "Sorry. Sorry," she said quickly, offering him a bright smile before moving around him. 

Catching up to her, Jake picked up the slight jog Heather had in her step. "How close are we cutting it?" 

"Way too close," she responded, swallowing hard. They were blocks away from Trish's place. They'd never get there in time. Thinking quickly, her gaze darted to the alley. "Come on." 

He nodded a little, turning down the alley with her. 

It was like fleeing from New Bern all over again, she thought distractedly. Except this time there was a hell of a lot more at stake than her life. She glanced around, saw no one at the end of the alley and crouched down to the ground. Yanking a small object from her pocket, she slid it between the window frame and the lock, unlocking the basement window of the building they were beside. 

Jake ducked down as well, watching her. "Heather, what the hell are you doing?" 

"Saving our lives," she responded, pushing the window open. "Get inside." 

He slid in the window, waiting anxiously for her to join him. 

Heather glanced around once more, then slid into the basement window, as well, stumbling a little and falling into Jake. 

He caught easily. "Careful." 

Swallowing hard, she nodded a little, catching his eyes in the faint light from outside. 

"I would have come anyway," he whispered. 

"Why?" she whispered back, shaking her head a little. 

"Because..." he let out a breath. "I think...I love you." 

The breath caught in her throat and she gazed back at him, her eyes blurring with tears. 

"And I never thanked you." 

"For what?" she asked in confusion, her voice a little strained. 

"Saving my life," his voice was quiet as he gazed at her. 

"Just returning the favor," she said just as quietly. 

He shook his head. "Let me thank you." 

Heather nodded silently, gazing at him. 

"Thank you for getting me away from Beck...I don't know what would have happened..." 

"I wasn't just gonna leave you there. None of us were, Jake." 

"But you were the one that made it happen." 

She bit her lip. "Emily gave herself up so I could prove my loyalty to Beck." 

"She did?" 

Heather nodded a little. 

"Wow," he stepped away, running a hand through his hair. 

"Yeah." She smiled faintly, then turned around and moved over to the window, pulling it shut quietly. 

"So, how did you get here so fast?" 

"Bill got me a car. I didn't waste any time." 

"Oh." 

"Sorry I didn't wait for you to wake up." Her voice was quiet and she didn't turn to face him. 

He shrugged. "You wouldn't have had to wait too long." 

Heather was quiet for a moment and she tucked some hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling?" 

"Glad that you're okay," he said, gazing at her. 

A faint smile touched her lips as she turned to face him. "Not exactly what I meant." 

He sighed. "I feel dead on my feet." 

Her smile slipped away and she glanced around the darkened basement. "You need to get some rest, Jake." 

"I know," he glanced around as well. "I just needed to know you were alright first." 

"Well, I'm fine," she assured him, wishing for something he could use for a pillow. 

"Yeah, I know that now." 

"We're gonna be here awhile. Till dawn at least, and that's a few hours. So...." She gazed at him with worried eyes. 

"Come on." He held out his hand. 

Heather dropped her gaze to his hand and slid her own into it after a moment. 

Giving it a slight squeeze, he led her over to the wall and slid down it. "We'll stay here then." 

Nodding, she pulled her lightweight jacket off and slid down to sit beside him. She hesitantly patted a hand to her lap. "Lay down." 

He looked down, raising his eyebrow. "Are you sure?" 

Heather nodded. "I'm sure." 

Slowly, he slid down until his head rested in her lap. 

She covered him with her jacket, resting one hand on his head and stroking his hair lightly. 

"You need your jacket," he murmured. 

"I'm not cold," she said softly. 

"It could get cold." 

"If it gets cold, I'll put it on." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise," she whispered. 

He nodded a little, closing his eyes. "Okay." 

Heather leaned her head back against the wall and gazed down at him as he slowly drifted off to sleep. 

"You get sleep too," he breathed. 

"I will." 

He didn't respond after that, mind drifting off into a deep sleep. 

* * * 

Some hours later Jake awoke with a jerk. Taking a moment to orient himself, he realized that he was in Heather's arms.

"Easy," she murmured, resting a hand on the back of his neck. 

He let out a long breath and sat up slowly. "It morning yet?" 

"Not yet," Heather said softly, glancing toward the window. "It's still dark out." 

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he nodded. "Okay." 

She grimaced when her stomach growled, then she rose to her feet, moving away from him and starting to explore the room they'd spent the last several hours in. It wasn't that the room was particularly interesting, but she needed a little space to clear her head. Because right now her thoughts were far too much about Jake Green to do anyone any good. 

"Do you have an idea of where we are?" he asked quietly. 

"The basement of a J&R warehouse," she responded. 

He nodded and drew his knees up to his chin. 

"Cold?" she asked softly, glancing at him. 

"I'm okay." 

Heather nodded slightly, though she didn't really believe him. 

Jake looked toward the window. His mind began to wander. The further it wandered, the closer it got to thinking of only Heather. 

"How's Hawkins going to contact you?" she asked, unaware he wasn't paying any attention. 

He turned back to her. "What?" 

"Hawkins. How's he supposed to get a hold of you?" 

Shifting a little he pulled a small radio out of his back pocket. 

She nodded a little, gazing at him for a moment. "You think he'll find it?" Her voice was quiet, uncertain. 

"I hope so." 

Heather drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "When the sun rises, I need to get to Trish's. I think she'll be able to help. She knows more about the ins and outs of J&R then the rest of us. Maybe she'll have an idea of where the government would store a..." She grimaced. "Nuclear bomb." 

"That'll be good." 

"How did you get past all the Jericho check points, anyway?" she questioned, regarding him curiously. 

"We got over them," he said cryptically. 

"Over them." Heather raised an eyebrow. 

A grin crept slowly onto his face. "The plane's parked outside city limits." 

She was taken aback by that response. "The plane? How'd you get a plane here? Who'd you get to _fly_ it?" 

"My grandpa had a plane. I flew us here." 

"You know how to fly a plane?" Heather stared at him in amazement. 

"Yeah." 

"Is there anything you _don't_ know how to do, Jake?" 

He laughed softly at her amazement. "There's a lot of things I don't know how to do." 

She looked at him doubtfully. 

"It's true." 

"Well, whatever you studied in college must have been incredibly inclusive, considering," she said, shaking her head a little and looking toward the window. She sighed softly as she observed the darkness that remained. 

"Just what I learned from my grandpa and flight school," he said quietly. 

"And life," she said softly. 

"Sure. That too." 

Heather hesitated a moment, biting her lower lip. "Jake?" 

He turned to her. "Yeah?" 

"I never really had a chance to tell you...how sorry I am about your dad." 

He looked down. "Thanks." 

"He would have been incredibly proud," she whispered. 

"I know." 

She nodded slightly, glad that he'd accepted that. She shivered a little and looked toward the window once more. 

"I think the sun's starting to come out," he said, glancing at the window as well. 

"Good," she murmured, moving toward the window and standing on her tiptoes to stare out. 

"Think we can risk leaving?" 

"Not yet. It would look too suspicious. We need to wait at least a half hour." 

"Right," he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes again. 

Heather slowly moved to his side, kneeling down next to him and pressing her hand gently to his forehead. 

Jake opened one eye. "What are you doing?" 

"I think you have a fever," she said with concern. 

He shook his head slightly. "Doesn't feel like it to me." 

"You're too warm," Heather said, touching his cheek and frowning. "It might be low grade, though." 

"Low grade is fine," he closed his eye again. 

"Low grade still means infection," she pointed out softly, glancing toward the window and willing the sun to rise more quickly. 

A soft smile touched his lips. "Thanks for the concern." 

Heather turned her head to look at him again, swallowing hard at the sight of the smile she'd fallen in love with all those months ago on a school bus in the middle of nowhere. Damn it. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to gain control over the thoughts and emotions she thought she'd gotten rid of during her time in New Bern. "Sure." 

They sat in silence, Jake letting his mind wander once more. "I talked with Emily before I came over." 

"Oh." 

"She feels pretty guilty for letting you go." 

She sighed softly. "It wasn't up to her. I had already made up my mind." 

"I figured that after she said that you go all the way or not at all." 

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Sorry?" 

"Emily said that you went one hundred percent on something, and if that didn't work, it was nothing at all." 

"She said that?" 

He nodded. 

Heather was quiet for a moment. "I guess that's pretty accurate." 

"Yeah," he said quietly. "She really was right." 

"I guess I got that from my mom." A faint smile touched her lips. "She always said if you were going to do something, give it your all or give up." 

"Nice philosophy." 

She nodded slightly, glancing at the window. "I think we can probably go safely now." 

He opened his eyes and looked toward the window. "Alright. Then let’s go." 

Nodding, Heather slowly rose to her feet, picking up her jacket off the floor. 

Jake stood after her. "Need a lift?" 

"I think I'm good." A faint, shy smile touched her lips as she raised the window. 

"Okay," he said quietly, taking a step back. 

Heather drew in a breath and tossed her coat outside before hoisting herself up as best she could. 

Despite what she said, Jake gave her an extra boost to get the rest of the way out of the window. 

She crawled into the alley, grimacing as gravel scraped the palms of her hands. Brushing them off on her jeans, she turned and reached to help Jake crawl out, as well. 

He took her hand and boost himself up and out of the window. "Thanks." 

"Welcome," she said softly, picking her coat up once more and leading him down the alley. As they approached the end of it, they could hear loud voices--military personnel on patrol. She turned and looked at Jake with wide-eyes. 

"Stay calm," he murmured. 

Heather gently pushed him back against the building, her eyes filled with apologies as she did the only thing she could think to do. She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him just as the voices paused at the alley entrance. 

Surprised at the move, he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her back, eyes drifting shut once more. 

"Hey. What are you two doing down there?" one of the guards asked suspiciously. 

Blushing, Heather slowly pulled away from Jake, her eyes wide as she stared at the guard. "Wow, this is...really embarrassing." 

The suspicion faded from his face and he smirked, motioning for his colleagues to move on. A moment later they were gone. 

Jake stayed against the wall, staring at Heather as his brain tried to process what had just happened. 

She looked up at him, offering him a sheepish, embarrassed grin. "Best I could come up with." 

"It’s...good thinking on your feet," he said, voice faint. 

Heather took note of the look on his face, realizing she'd really caught him off guard. "Uh, thanks." She looked at the ground. "We should...get going." 

He blinked, shaking his head. "Yeah. Going...going is good." 

Biting her lip, she straightened and slowly headed around the corner, glancing to make sure he was with her as she headed for Trish's apartment. 

Jake followed behind her at a somewhat slower pace. "Trish's apartment....right?" 

Heather nodded slightly. "It's just a few blocks. Are you feeling okay? You could stay here and I could come pick you up in a car." 

He waved a hand, finally coming to his senses. "I'm fine. Just surprised me is all." 

She winced. "Sorry. I was afraid if I didn't do something--" 

"I'm glad you did it," he said quickly. 

Tucking some hair behind her ear, she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as they walked. 

He caught up with her easily. "Cold?" 

"A little," she admitted. 

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "Better?" 

Heather looked up at him with surprise. 

"Just want you to be warm," he murmured. 

The urge to kiss him again--this time for real--was nearly overwhelming as their eyes met. It was also what had gotten her into this situation in the first place. She quickly looked down, murmuring a thanks as Emily's face flashed into her mind and she imagined the hurt her best friend would feel if she really did kiss him again. 

"Welcome," he looked forward, arm tightening a little around her as they continued to walk down the sidewalk, passing guard after guard. 

For more than one reason, Heather was relieved when they arrived at Trish's apartment building. "This is it," she murmured, glancing up at him before opening the door to the lobby. 

He released his hold on her and followed her into the lobby. "Dreary place." 

"Nature of the beast," she murmured, heading up the stairs. 

"Yeah," he went up the stairs behind her. 

She drew in a breath as she reached Trish's front door, and knocked quickly, feeling anxious. 

Trish answered moments later. "There you are! God, where have you been? I've been so worried." 

"Sorry, we got stuck out past curfew and had to hide out for the night. I don't have a cell phone," Heather explained. 

She raised her eyebrow, not seeing Jake. "We?" 

Her cheeks flushed with color and she stepped aside to reveal Jake. 

Trish's eyes widened. "Sheriff Green."

"Hi Trish," Jake gave her a half smile. "Call me Jake, I'm not sheriff anymore." 

"Long story," Heather told her softly, stepping inside when Trish moved to let them in. 

"Right..." She watched them walk in. "Um, I need to go to work now...but...feel free to use anything in here." 

"Trish, wait." Her voice was quiet. "Look, there's...no easy way to say this, but--" 

She raised her eyebrow, waiting. 

"There's a nuclear bomb here in Cheyenne, and someone in the government is gonna set it off unless we find it first." 

A hand went to her mouth. "Oh God." 

"We don't have much time," she said quietly, surprised at how calm she felt. She figured it was probably from the lack of sleep. "We're gonna need your help." 

"Okay," Trish quickly agreed. "Tell me what you need me to do." 

"Do you have _any_ idea where the Cheyenne government might take a bomb?" 

She chewed her lip, thinking. "Probably at the head J&R office." 

Heather shut her eyes, her heart sinking. "Well, that's gonna make things difficult." 

"Actually..." 

She opened her eyes again and looked at Trish. 

"I have access to that building," she said quietly. 

"This could cost you your job." Heather's voice was quiet. 

"I'd rather help you." 

Her eyes were sad. She saw in Trish the person she herself had been once--before Beck had tortured Jake, before Bonnie had been brutally gunned down by Ravenwood, before New Bern and the nightmare her life had turned into when she'd left Black Jack with Ted and Russell. She also knew that this one act would change the young woman before her, just as her experiences had changed her. 

"Please," her eyes were begging. "Just tell me what you need and I can probably get it." 

Biting her lower lip, Heather turned to look at Jake. 

Jake folded his arms. "I don't think it's such a good idea. So many people have gotten hurt already." 

Heather gazed at him for a moment, then looked at the floor. "I don't like it either but this may be our best option, Jake." 

"Just tell me what I need to do. I can be careful," Trish's voice was eager, almost begging.

He sighed. "Okay, but we have to come up with a solid plan." 

Heather nodded slightly and turned her attention to Trish. "Where in the building do you think they'd keep it?" 

"Somewhere in the basement, I think. Where not a lot of people are prone to go." 

Nodding, she glanced at Jake uncertainly. "What then? It's not gonna be easy to smuggle a nuke out of J&R. Not to mention there will be guards." 

“It's where we need Hawkins," he dug in his back pocket, pulling out his walkie talkie. Toggling it twice, he waited for a response. 

A moment later, Hawkins's voice came through the radio. "Any luck?" 

"Yeah. I think I have us a way to get to the bomb." 

“We need to meet then." 

Jake glanced at Trish. "Where are we?" 

"302 South Oakwood," she answered. 

He nodded. "302 South Oakwood." 

"Is that residential?" Hawkins questioned. 

"Yes. There's someone here that can help us," Jake assured him. 

There was a pause, followed by a hint of weariness in his voice when he responded, "On my way. Did you find Heather?" 

"She's here." 

"Good. I'll see you soon." The radio went quiet. 

He dropped the radio back into his pocket and glanced between the two women. "Now we have a plan." 

Heather looked at Trish. "Do you have any Tylenol or aspirin?" 

"Yeah. I'll go get it," she said, moving past them and down the hall. 

"You. Sit." She took Jake by the arm and led him to the sofa. 

Jake's eyes widened slightly as she forced him down on the sofa. "What--" 

"You're running a fever and you need to rest." Her voice was gentle, but firm. "I'll fix you something to eat." 

"Don't have any more time to rest," he grumbled. 

"Well, you're gonna rest until Hawkins gets here," she responded, giving him a look before heading to the kitchen. 

He sighed, sitting back on the couch. "Fine." 

A faint smile touched her lips as she returned with a glass of cool water. "Emily's not here to make sure you take care of yourself, so I'm her stand-in until you're back in Jericho." 

"Then you'll both be on me," he took the water from her. 

Heather didn't meet his eyes as she took the bottle of aspirin from Trish. 

"You're coming home with me," he said quietly, determined. 

"We'll see," she said softly, not looking at him as she shook a couple of the pills from the bottle and held her hand out. 

He took them from her without protest, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere if he put up a fight. "Thanks." 

"Welcome." She watched as he swallowed them down with a drink of water. "What sounds good? Eggs and bacon? Omelet?" 

"How about just toast?" 

"Upset stomach?" she asked, looking concerned. 

"Little bit," he admitted. 

Heather nodded slightly. "Toast it is." She turned and headed into the kitchen. 

Jake smiled a little. She reminded him of his mom right then. 

Trish sat down in the chair across from the sofa, looking a little nervous. 

"I'll make sure nothing happens to you," Jake said, glancing at her. 

She smiled faintly. "From Jericho town hero to national hero?" 

He let out a short laugh. "Hardly." 

"I don't know. I'd say I'm not the only one with that opinion." She glanced toward the kitchen. 

"Two people on my side...humbling." 

"You know you have a lot more people on your side than the two of us," Heather chided as she returned to the room with a plate of toast. 

He took the plate from her, uttering a quiet thank you before taking a bite. "Okay, so the rest of the Rangers are." 

She sat down beside him, looking at Trish. "When we do this...it won't be safe for you here anymore." Her voice was sad. 

"I realized that," Trish dropped her head a little. "I'll find a place to go." 

Heather looked down, as well, then closed her eyes, knowing what it was like to have ties to a place you cared about but be able to return. 

“Everything's going to be okay," Jake finished off his toast and sat up straighter. "When this is over...we're all going back to Jericho." 

Heather glanced up at Trish and offered her a small smile. "The Rangers will keep you safe." 

He nodded. "They will." 

Trish met Heather's eyes and then glanced at Jake. "Okay." 

Jake glanced at Heather. "They'll take care of you too." 

She didn't meet his eyes. She wasn't going to make a promise to return to Jericho when she wasn't sure that's what she was going to do. Not yet. She glanced toward the door when there was a knock. 

Jake stood quickly, walking over to the door. "Hawkins?" 

"It's me," he confirmed. 

Jake opened the door at the confirmation and stepped aside to let Hawkins in. "You able to find anything?" 

He stepped inside and looked at Heather and Trish uncertainly before looking back at Jake. 

"They know what's going on." 

Hawkins' jaw tensed a little and he shook his head. "It's in the basement of the main J&R building." 

"That's where Trish said it could be," Jake glanced briefly at her. 

"I can get down there. But I need to know what to do once I'm there." Her eyes reflected her nervousness, but her voice was calm. 

"What if we forged transportation papers?" Hawkins asked, turning to her. 

"It can be done, but it won't be easy. It'll be more difficult to get to the mainframe of the network of Cheyenne that it was to get to Goetz's in Jericho." 

"But it can be done," there was no question in his voice. 

Trish nodded slightly. "How are you with computers?" 

"I'm good enough to get by." 

She glanced at Heather hopefully.

Heather drew in a breath. "If you can get me there, I can do it." 

"Then it's set," Jake spoke up. "You three work together to get into the mainframe, get the papers, and we'll go after the bomb. I'll keep lookout." 

Heather met his eyes, nodding slightly, hope and fear mixed together.

They were going to need a miracle. 

* * * 

Heather's heart was pounding heavily in her chest as she walked alongside Trish down the long corridor at Jennings and Rall toward the room where the computer's mainframe was stored. She glanced at the photo-ID badge Trish had whipped up for her in less than fifteen minutes on her home computer, amazed at how real it looked. 

They'd walked through the building and not a single person had looked at her with any suspicion and she hoped they just continued to be so lucky. She chewed on her lower lip as Trish swiped her badge at the door and then pushed it open, leading the way inside. 

"Okay..." Trish took a deep, steadying breath. "These are the mainframe computers." She motioned to the thirty or so computers in the room. 

Heather looked around, taking notice of the cameras all around. "Well, there won't be any doubt who was in on this," she murmured under her breath before moving to sit down at the nearest computer, trying to make it seem like what she was about to do was perfectly normal. 

"Just don't look up," she murmured, sitting down next to her. "They won't know for sure if you never look directly at the camera." 

She nodded very slightly, palms sweating a little. "Okay, password?" 

"An at sign, a dollar sign, then an a, after that, put a zero and an eight." 

Heather did as Trish dictated, typing it in quickly and giving her a tiny smile when it logged her onto the network. "All right, we're in," she murmured. 

"There's some kind of section devoted to transportation. I can't get in to that one, but if you can get into there, it'll give us what we need." 

Nodding slightly, she set to work, focusing on the task at hand. She'd majored in physics and engineering at MIT, a fact very few people knew about her. Computers are just really complex machines, she told herself, recalling what she could about binary code and using it to hack into the system. A few drops of sweat beaded on her forehead as the section on transportation finally came up. 

Trish let out a relieved breath when the section was accessed. "I can take it from here," she said quietly. 

"Okay." She slid away from the computer, keeping her head ducked and out of sight from the camera. 

Quickly, she pulled up the pdf she needed and began to modify it. Soon enough, each field was filled out correctly and she printed off the papers. "Got it." 

"Let's get out of here," Heather whispered, already moving toward the door. 

Grabbing the paper, she followed Heather out, making sure the door locked behind them. 

Feeling quite certain she'd just knocked ten years off her life span, she led them toward the elevator, hoping Hawkins had come up with a plan to get the bomb out of the basement.


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you get the papers?" Jake's voice was anxious as Heather and Trish reappeared. 

Trish held them up, looking calm, though her shaking hand gave her away. "Where's Hawkins?" 

"He's got it. We're meeting him at an ambulance bay." 

Heather met his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Let's go." 

Jake glanced at the J&R truck he'd managed to steal. "Hop in." 

"You stole a truck?" Trish looked at him with raised eyebrows, shock on her face. "They'll know in five minutes that it's gone." 

"Then we'd better get going," Heather said, grabbing her arm and climbing into the passenger seat. 

He started the truck up quickly and peeled out of the parking lot toward the ambulance bay. "We'll be there in less than five." 

By the time Jake stopped the truck two minutes later, Heather had decided she was never going to ride in a car with him again if she could avoid it. She'd never been a big fan of Nascar. 

As soon as he shut the truck off, he climbed from the cab without another word, walking toward the ambulance he assumed Hawkins had secured. 

Heather and Trish followed quickly, exchanging nervous glances as they approached the single ambulance parked out front. 

Hawkins pushed the back doors open. "Come on, we don't have much time." 

Jake nodded. "Any problems?" 

He opened them farther, revealing the bomb that was secured in the back of the bus. 

"God," Trish whispered, face paling. 

"Come on," he murmured. "You two can sit up front." 

Heather didn't really figure it mattered where she sat because if the bomb exploded, she was going to be blown to smithereens regardless. Drawing in a breath to try and clear the growing sense of unease, she headed toward the passenger door as a hail of gunfire descended upon them. 

Jake pulled his gun from his belt with an uttered curse and bolted around to the front of the vehicle, ordering the women to stay put as he left. 

"Get down," Heather said, grabbing Trish's arm and ducking low to the ground, flinching at the noise, her mind flashing back to her narrow escape from New Bern. She shut her eyes tightly. 

By the time Jake reached the front, Hawkins was already down, but still firing his gun. Letting off a few shots of his own, he grabbed the back of Hawkins’ shirt and began to drag him around to the back. 

"Leave me," Hawkins ordered, his voice thick. "Get the bomb out of here." 

Jake shook his head. "No way. You're coming." 

"Jake--" Before he could protest, another round of bullets assaulted them. Grimacing, Hawkins gripped his gun a little tighter, took aim and shot one of the shooters on the roof of the hospital. 

Heather shuddered and looked at Trish. "Get in the ambulance. Get ready to drive." She rose to her feet, picking up one of the guns off the ground that the shooters had dropped. She rounded the back of the ambulance to join Jake and Hawkins. "Hurry," she said urgently, helping Jake lift Hawkins into the back. 

When Heather turned her back, one of the shooters suddenly appeared, cocking his gun and pulling the trigger. Jake watched in horror as the man performed the action and shouted her name, diving in front of her. 

Without warning, she was tackled to the ground, hard enough to knock the wind out of her. A heavy weight rested on top of her and her mind quickly filled in the blanks. "Jake!" 

Gritting his teeth against the sudden fiery pain that shot through him, Jake pulled himself up from Heather and shot the man, satisfied when he fell to the floor. Turning, he looked at Heather. "You okay?" 

She climbed to her feet, reaching out toward him, cold fear rushing through her at the sight of the quickly-growing bloodstain on his jacket. "Jake--" 

He followed her fear-filled gaze to his arm that was now bleeding profusely from the wound the bullet had caused. Shaking his head, he nodded to the ambulance. "I'm okay. Get in. We need to go." 

Heather grasped his uninjured arm and helped him into the back with Hawkins, quickly shutting the doors. "Go!" she yelled to Trish. 

Trish nodded, terror coursing through her as she started it and rammed her foot on the gas. 

The ambulance lurched forward, throwing both Heather and Jake off-balance momentarily and causing them to crash into each other. Instinctively she wound her arms around him in an attempt to keep them both upright. 

He put his uninjured arm around her and righted both of them, glancing toward where Hawkins was sitting. "How bad?" 

"Not good," he said grimly, faint smile on his face as he kept his hand over the wound in his stomach. 

Heather guided Jake so he was seated beside the other man and quickly began to pull supplies from tiny cabinets that lined the ambulance wall. 

Jake gripped his arm firmly, keeping his gaze on Heather. "Help Hawkins first." 

"We need a plan," she said, her voice steady despite the fear she felt rushing through her. She sat down on the other side of Hawkins, gently pulling his hand away and pulling his shirt up. She winced at the sight of the wound in his gut and pressed a wad of gauze to it, holding it in place. 

Hawkins grimaced, shutting his for a moment, then reaching into his pocket and retrieving his Sprint phone. 

"Who are you calling?" Jake asked, glancing curiously at the phone. 

"A friend," he replied painfully, pressing the phone to his ear, resisting the urge to shove Heather away as she kept pressure on his wound. "Chavez? I need a favor." 

Heather glanced at him, and then at Jake, wondering who Chavez was. 

He watched Hawkins intently, jaw set as he fought back his own pain as he waited for an answer for the favor Hawkins was calling in. 

"It has to happen now," he said gruffly, glancing toward the front of the ambulance. "Thanks." He hung up the phone. "Head for the Texas Embassy," he said loudly so Trish would hear him. 

Trish nodded, not hesitating in redirecting their route as quickly as possible. 

As soon as the bleeding had slowed from Hawkins' wound, she grasped his hand and covered the gauze with it. "Hold it tight," she ordered, moving over to Jake. 

"I'm fine," he said. 

"Take your jacket off," Heather replied, ignoring him. 

He released the hold on his arm and more blood flowed out. Grunting, he carefully slid out of his jacket and held his arm toward her. 

She winced a little, moving quickly and winding an ace bandage around his shoulder. "It has to be tight," she warned softly. 

He nodded a little, wincing as it got tighter. 

She shifted a little closer to him, a frightened scream escaping her as a hail of bullets shattered the windshield and the ambulance swerved sharply to the left. "Get down! Trish! Are you all right?" 

"I'm okay," her voice wavered, terror clear in her tone. 

"How much farther?" She ducked low, tugging Jake down with her as Hawkins pressed himself closer to the floor, as well. 

"Another block," she responded. 

She shut her eyes, not even realizing she was holding onto Jake's good arm as she offered up silent prayers to whoever might be listening. 

"Go through the gates!" Hawkins ordered, his voice strained. 

Nodding, Trish slammed on the gas when she saw the gate, crashing through. 

Everything happened too quickly to process. The back doors of the ambulance were yanked open and men with guns suddenly appeared, aiming the weapons at them. 

"Wait!" Heather's face was pale, frightened as she held her hands up. "Wait! My friends are hurt, please-" 

"You're not supposed to be in here!" one of the soldiers shouted. "You're on sovereign territory." 

"I know! We need help!" Her whole body was trembling and she looked helplessly at Hawkins and then Jake, her hands still in the air. 

The soldier was about to respond when another man stepped through. "They're alright," he surveyed the damage to the two men. "Get the medic down here. Now." 

"Please hurry," Heather urged, relief washing over her as she knelt down to help Jake stand up. 

Jake stood slowly, swaying as the blood loss began to take its toll. 

"Easy," she whispered, quickly wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him as she guided him toward the back of the ambulance where a couple soldiers helped him down. Then she moved to Hawkins' side, sliding an arm under his shoulders and helping him sit up. "Can you walk?" she asked uncertainly. 

He nodded, sweat rolling off his face as he placed his feet under him and stood. 

She bit down hard on her lip as she helped him to the back of the ambulance as well and the soldiers helped him down as a medic rushed over. "They've both lost a lot of blood." 

Jake watched as the medic started for him. Shaking his head, he nodded to Hawkins. "He's worse. Help him first." 

Heather jumped down from the ambulance, swallowing hard at the sight of all the armored trucks just outside the premises of the embassy. She glanced over to make sure Trish was all right and when she saw the woman was fine, she moved over to Jake's side. 

He looked up at her. "How you doing?" 

"Me? I'm fine. I'm not the one who's been shot." 

He shrugged a little. "Barely hurts now." 

"Liar," she said softly, looking up at him with a knowing look on her face. She cast a worried glance toward the armored trucks, then took him by his good arm and followed the medics and soldiers into the embassy, Trish falling into step with her. 

Once inside, Jake looked at Heather. "I need to sit down.” Nodding, she guided him over to a chair. 

He sat down heavily, dropping his head. "Thanks." 

Heather hesitantly touched his cheek, her eyes filled with emotions. "I'll find you some water." 

He grabbed her hand with his good one before she could leave. "Just stay here." 

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Are you all right?" 

"I don't want to let you out of my sight." 

"You don't think it's safe here?" she asked uncertainly. 

"I don't want to take the chance," he said softly. 

Heather glanced over her shoulder to see they were being watched with suspicious eyes. "Where are Trish and Hawkins?" she murmured, feeling uneasy. 

Jake looked up at the men that were watching them. "Where are the other two that arrived with us?" 

"The medic is with the man. The woman's being questioned," he said evenly. 

Heather turned to face them. "Being questioned for what?" 

"For how she came to be involved with you." 

She saw right past that lie. "You mean because she works for J&R." Her eyes narrowed. 

"We have orders to question anyone working for them." 

"She's on our side," she said, taking a small step toward him. "If it hadn't been for her, the Cheyenne government would still have that bomb." 

The soldier gazed at her. "If she raises no red flags during questioning she'll be free to remain here." 

Heather was tense and she shook her head a little, looking away. 

"It's not within my power to do anything different. I'm sorry ma'am," his voice was sincere. 

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Can someone get my friend some water?" Her voice was quiet, tired. 

He nodded. "I'll go get some." 

"Thank you." She watched him go, then turned and began to pace the length of the room slowly. 

Jake watched her. "You're going to wear yourself out." 

"I'm pretty much running on adrenaline rush," she told him without stopping. 

"Sit down." 

"What happens next?" 

He sighed. "We get a plane to Texas." 

Heather turned to look at him. "You really think the Cheyenne government will let us fly right over the ASA's airspace without argument?" 

He shrugged slightly. "Not really, no." 

Her stomach twisted into a knot. "Great," she murmured, resuming her slow pacing. 

"We'll get there." 

She wished she believed that--wished that she could believe him, but the last few months had taught her that nothing ever turned out the way she hoped. She wouldn't allow herself to hope for anything too much. It always came back to haunt her in the end. 

* * * 

Heather had finally given up on the pacing and sat down a few feet away from Jake on the floor when the door opened and Trish stepped inside, looking pale and tired. She quickly rose to her feet once more. "Are you all right?" 

"Yeah," her voice was quiet. "I'm alright." 

She crossed the room and hugged the younger woman briefly before pulling away to look at her once more. 

She gave her a small smile. "Thanks." 

Heather drew in a breath and raked a hand through her hair. "Have you seen Hawkins?" 

"The medic's just finishing up with him." 

"Good," she murmured, relaxing just a little. She turned to look back at Jake. 

Jake looked back at her, face pale and sweaty, posture slouched. 

The little amount of relief she'd felt dissipated at the sight of him slowly withering in front of her. She moved to his side quickly, placing a hand against his forehead. "You're burning up." 

"I'll be okay," he whispered. 

Heather swallowed hard, leaning down a little to gaze at him at eye-level. "Of course you will." She forced a small smile, trying to push away the fear that was rapidly rebuilding within her. 

A moment later, Hawkins was wheeled in followed by the head of the embassy. 

She looked past the man in charge to the medic that was following. "Jake has a fever," she told him, stepping aside to clear the way for him. 

The man nodded, moving to Jake's side and looking him over as the head man began to speak. 

"We have a plane waiting for you at the airport. The package has already been transported and loaded. You'll need to fly straight to Texas. They're expecting you," he said, gazing at Jake, and then at Hawkins. 

"When do we leave?" Jake asked, ignoring the medic's ministries. 

"As soon as possible. I'm afraid we don't have much time," the man said regretfully. "We've done all we can here." 

Heather swallowed hard and looked at Trish with worried eyes. 

"Then we need to leave now," Hawkins' weak voice spoke up. 

"I don't think you or Jake either one is in the condition to--" Heather began, shaking her head. 

"He's right, Heather," Jake gazed at her. "We don't have a lot of time." 

Her expression was pained as she looked back at him. 

"I'll get transportation ready," the embassy head picked up the phone. 

She turned away from Jake, and from Hawkins, trying to get her bearings before their brief rest ended. 

The medic fit a make-shift sling on Jake's arm and turned to Heather, expression grim. "Miss?" 

Heather turned to regard the medic, meeting his eyes. "Yeah?" 

"Do you mind if we..." He motioned toward the hall. 

Feeling dread creep into her once more, she led the way into the corridor. 

He let out a breath as they came to a stop in the hall. "Both those men are injured badly." 

"I know." She shut her eyes. 

He shook his head. "You don't understand. If they don't reach a proper facility within the next few hours, there's a good chance that they could die." 

Her face grew pale and she opened her eyes to look at him once more, stunned. "How long does it take to fly to Texas?" 

"An hour or so." 

"All right, as soon as we land I'll make sure they're taken to the nearest hospital." Assuming they'd make it to Texas to land at all. 

"Who's flying the plane to Texas, if I may ask?" 

"Jake's the only one of us who knows how to fly." 

He nodded. "Watch him carefully as you fly. _Don't_ leave his side." 

"I won't," she whispered, her heart beating quickly in her chest. 

"Here," he reached into his bag and pulled out some bandages and a bottle. "Take these with you. This bottle has pills for pain. Give them to Hawkins on the plane, and keep an eye on Jake's arm, make sure it doesn't need to be re-wrapped." 

"Got it." She forced herself to take a deep breath. She had to keep it together. She couldn't afford to break down right then, and neither could the rest of them. If they lived through what was to come, there'd be time to break down and process it all later. Focus, she told herself. 

As their conversation came to an end and she took the items offered, Hawkins, Trish, and Jake emerged from the room they had been talking in. 

"Let's get this done," Hawkins said, his voice quiet as he walked toward the exit slowly. 

Trish joined him, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him toward the exit. 

Heather waited for Jake to fall into step with her, looking at him with worried eyes. "You sure you're up for this?" 

"I can't do it alone," he didn't meet her eyes. 

"You won't," she said quietly. 

He slowly looked at her. "How fast can you learn?" 

"I'm sorry?" She frowned. 

"I don't know...how long I'll be able to fly the plane," he said quietly. 

"The medic said it's only an hour's flight to Texas," she assured him. 

"I'm barely hanging on," he admitted, eyes shining. "After everything with Beck...and now this...Heather, I don't think--" 

Alarm rocketed through her. "Hey, hey. You're gonna be fine, Jake." She stopped walking and put a hand on his cheek, gazing at him intently. "We're gonna do this and we're gonna get you to a hospital and then somehow we're gonna get you back home to Emily, okay? You have to believe that." 

He didn't move, glassy eyes still on her. "I need to know." 

"Jake, I don't know how to fly a plane." 

"I'll teach you." 

The words crash course flashed through her mind and she grimaced. Crash being the operative word, she thought. "Okay." 

"Okay," he let out a breath. "Let’s do this." 

* * * 

As they boarded the plane at the airport, Heather turned around on the staircase in time to see the armored trucks squealing into view. They were out of luck and out of time. "Hurry," she shouted over the noise of the plane engine. She quickly moved to sit in the co-pilot seat beside Jake, her face pale. 

He glanced at her. "Everyone in?" 

She nodded quickly, gripping onto the armrests of the chair. 

He pulled up on the controls, gaining speed as the plane went down the runway. 

Swallowing hard, she glanced back to where Trish was sitting at Hawkins' side, keeping pressure on the wound in his stomach. 

Moments later, they were in the air and gaining altitude. "You always keep an eye on this gauge," he told Heather,   
tapping the altitude meter. 

"Where's it supposed to be?" she asked uncertainly. 

"We can't go below thirty," he looked at her. 

Heather glanced at him, swallowing hard as she nodded. 

Jake closed his eyes for a moment as dizziness washed over him. Opening them once more, he nodded to the controls in front of her. "Those are what keep us in the air. Pull up to go higher if the altitude drops." 

She hoped with everything in her that she wasn't going to have to make use of this quick lesson. "Okay." 

He looked out the window. "Ask some questions." 

"I don't think you really want me to do that." 

"You want me to stay conscious?" 

She winced. "You really think we can pull this off?" 

He nodded. "Yeah, I do." 

Heather drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "All right." She glanced back at Trish and Hawkins, both of whom were stonily silent. "So pull up on the controls if the altitude drops. What else?" 

He pointed at the compass. "We're going southeast. Keep an eye on it and don't let our direction change." 

"How will I know when we've hit Texas?" 

"Mileage," his finger moved to another meter. "Add eight hundred onto this, but you'll still need me." 

"Always," she said very softly without thinking about it. 

Swallowing, Jake clenched his fist on his injured arm as the pain flared and he felt warmth begin to spread from the  
wound. 

Heather reached out and rested her hand over his, eyes worried. 

"Don't feel so hot," he murmured. 

Her heart began to beat a little faster. "All right, trade me places." 

He shook his head. "You can fly from there." 

She sucked in a breath and hesitantly took hold of the controls. "I can do this," she murmured. 

He nodded, closing his eyes. "I know you can." 

She swallowed hard, focusing her entire attention on keeping the plane at its current altitude. 

Jake opened his eyes slightly, letting out a shaky breath. "You're doing great." 

A short, nervous chuckle escaped her. "I haven't really done anything." 

"You're keeping your cool," he murmured. 

Heather didn't really see that she had another choice. If she panicked and Jake passed out, they were going to die in a fiery death that would take out everyone within a three hundred mile radius. But she simply nodded. 

Jake's eyes wandered around the plane for a moment. Spotting the switch he was looking for, he leaded forward slowly and flipped it, then sat back. "You can let go." 

"Autopilot?" she guessed, glancing at him sideways. 

He nodded. 

She hesitantly let go of the controls, her gaze locked on the altitude gauge. 

"It'll stay there," he assured her in a whisper. 

"Okay," she whispered back, leaning back in her seat and turning her head to look at him instead. 

His eyes slid shut again. "My arm feels wet." 

She looked down at his arm to see that the blood had indeed soaked through the damage and she uttered a word she'd only uttered half a dozen times in her life, most of which had occurred since the bombs had been dropped months ago. She reached into the bag the medic had given her and pulled out a clean bandage, then glanced back at Trish. "How's Hawkins?" 

"Still conscious and I can hear you," he replied wryly. 

Trish shook her head. "He's a stubborn one." 

"Here. Make sure he takes two of these," she said, tossing the bottle of pain pills back to the other woman before turning her attention to Jake. "Hold your arm out." 

He groaned. "Leave it." 

"Jake." There was a hint of warning in her tone. 

"Hurts," he complained. 

"It's gonna hurt a lot worse if it gets infected," she pointed out. 

"Don't take off the first bandage," he opened his eyes a crack and held out his arm the best he could. 

"I have to. The medic said to change it if you bled through it," she said gently, slowly starting to unwind it. 

"Artery," he whispered. 

Heather looked at him, startled as it dawned on her what he meant. If she removed the bandage he might just bleed out before she could get the fresh bandage on him. She uttered the curse word again, quickly winding it back on his arm and starting in with the second bandage. 

"Shouldn't say that word," he said quietly, a small smile on his lips. 

"I don't usually," she admitted, setting to work with quick, gentle hands. 

"You've said it twice in the span of a few minutes." 

"Well..." Her cheeks turned a little pink. "We're under highly unusual circumstances." 

"True," he winced as she tightened the bandage. 

"Sorry," she murmured, looking up and catching his eyes for a moment. 

"You're fine," he whispered. 

Heather finished wrapping his arm and secured it into place with the metal piece before glancing at the gauges. They were at the same altitude, thankfully, and they were quickly approaching Texas. Maybe they would live through this ordeal after all, she thought hopefully. And then suddenly there was a loud noise from behind the plane and she strained to see out the window. "Oh God." 

Jake straightened. "What is it?" 

"ASA planes," she said, her body rigid with tension. 

Cursing, he leaned forward and shut off the autopilot, grabbing the controls. "Hold on." 

"This is Allied States of America Flight Commander Ross Devaroux. Identify yourself immediately!" 

Jake toggled the radio. "This is an authorized flight to Texas." 

"Authorized by whom?" 

Heather swallowed hard and looked at him sideways. 

"The state of Texas," he responded. 

"The Allied States of America doesn't recognize authorized flights by any other nation," the voice replied. "I'm under orders to escort you back to Cheyenne." 

"I don't have the authorization to go with the Cheyenne government." 

"If you don't turn your plane around, I'm going to be forced to shoot you down." 

Heather's face paled and she turned to look over her shoulder at Trish and Hawkins, the breath catching in her throat. 

Jake's jaw tightened, sweat beading on his forehead. "Everyone hold on!" 

"What are we doing?" Trish asked, frightened as she looked at Heather. 

"Hold on," she responded, her hands gripping onto the armrests of her seat. 

"You have until the count of three to surrender and turn your plane around!" 

He ignored the warning and pressed down on the controls, diving away from the other planes. 

Heather shut her eyes tightly as though doing so would make the reality of the situation go away. Or that when she opened them again she'd wake up and realize she'd just been having a terrible nightmare. 

"One..." She heard the pilot begin to count. "Two." 

"Three," Jake murmured, jerking the control to the left, rolling the plane. 

Distantly she heard Trish scream and she wondered how she'd managed not to do the same as she clutched onto the seat so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart was beating so hard she was afraid it would burst and she tried to distract herself by mentally calculating how many more years this short flight was taking off her young life. 

Once upright again, he took the plane lower, breathing hard. "You guys okay?" 

"If I throw up do you think the Texas embassy will sue me for plane desecration?" Trish joked weakly, face drained of all color. 

A short, nervous chuckle escaped Heather and she looked out the window to see the ASA planes flying above and them but slowly dropping their altitude. "Jake, they're coming back." 

Now a third plane was in view, this one heading toward them, but higher up. Her stomach twisted more. "Jake--" 

Suddenly two explosions rang out and she watched in horror as the ASA planes blew up in the middle of the sky. 

Jake's eyes widened. "Pilot, identify yourself." 

"This is flight captain Wyatt Ackles of Texas. You must be Jake Green." 

He let out a relieved breath. "That's me." 

"I don't know what the hell you're carrying in that plane, but it better be good. I'm pretty sure I just declared war on the Cheyenne government." 

"You've got great timing anyway." He smiled a little. 

Heather shut her eyes, beads of sweat on her forehead as she leaned her head back against the seat. "No kidding." 

Jake leaned back in his chair. "Texas, here we come." 

* * * 

When they landed, Jake all but collapsed in his seat when he realized they were safely in Texas. He turned to Heather and have her a weak smile. "We did it." 

"It was mostly you and Hawkins," she said with a faint smile of her own. 

"You still helped." 

She started to respond as the doors to the plane opened and members of the Texas Guard began to flood the back, a vaguely familiar man leading the way. She narrowed her eyes, recalling that she'd seen him in Beck's office more than once. One of his men. "Hey!" She rose to her feet. 

Chavez looked up at her and smirked. "Lisinski, right?" 

"He's a good guy," Jake assured her. 

She glanced at Jake briefly, then back at Chavez, relaxing. "Heather," she answered. "You think we can save the reunions for later? Mr. Hawkins and Jake are both hurt pretty bad. They need immediate medical attention." 

Chavez glanced at Hawkins, who was barely conscious. "Get the medics up here!" He ordered. 

The men in the plane complied immediately, rushing out of the plane and bringing paramedics back seconds later. 

The paramedics swarmed the plane and Heather backed up out of the way, standing next to Trish as half of them attended to Hawkins and the others descended upon Jake. 

The paramedics worked quickly, loading Hawkins onto a stretcher and slowly taking him off the plane, Trish giving

Heather a quick shaky smile and following them out to make room for another stretcher. 

Heather remained behind, waiting anxiously as the remaining medics maneuvered Jake onto the stretcher. 

Jake laid back, eyes closed. Before they had a chance to take him off, he reached his good arm out. "Heather." 

She slid her hand into his wordlessly. 

He gripped her hand tightly, afraid that if he let go, she'd vanish again. 

"I'm right here," she whispered, falling into step with the paramedics as they carried him off the plane. 

"Don't leave," he whispered almost inaudibly. 

Heather winced at the plea, realizing he was referring to the last time he'd been hurt and she'd fled to Cheyenne. "I won't. I promise," she whispered back. 

With that promise, his grip relaxed and he finally drifted into oblivion. 

* * * 

Heather watched with frightened eyes as the doctors wheeled both Jake and Hawkins into an elevator to take them up to surgery. She flinched a little when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder and turned to see Trish. "Hey." 

"Hey," she said softly. 

"Going up to surgery," she said, though she was pretty sure Trish already knew that. 

She nodded, then held up a cup of coffee. "Figured you'd need some kind of fix." 

"Thanks," Heather whispered, taking a drink and closing her eyes as exhaustion threatened to overtake her. 

"Come on," she guided Heather over to the chairs. "You need to sit down." 

"Actually...have you seen any payphones around? I need to call home. Jericho," she corrected herself. 

She dug in her pockets for a moment and pulled out a small cell phone. "Here." 

"Thanks," Heather said softly, taking the phone from her and drawing in a breath before dialing Gail Green's telephone number. 

The phone didn't even get to ring a second time before Gail picked up. "Hello?" 

"Mrs. Green?" 

"Heather," her frantic tone was tinged with relief. "Are you alright? Where are you?" 

"Houston, Texas," she said tiredly, slowly sitting down in one of the chairs in the waiting room. 

There was a pause. "Did Jake and Hawkins...?" 

"They're here, too. And Trish Merrick." She let out a breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment. 

"Tell me you're all safe." 

Heather hesitated a second. "Jake and Hawkins are hurt, Mrs. Green." 

She gasped. "How bad?" 

"Jake was shot in the arm." She swallowed hard, guilt washing over her. "Hawkins in the stomach. They're both up in surgery." 

"Oh God..." her voice wavered. "Are they going to be okay?" 

"I don't know anything more right now," she admitted. "I'm sorry." 

"Okay," she blew out a breath. "Please, please call me when you know something." 

"I will, I promise. I'm sorry, Mrs. Green." Her voice was pained. 

"Don't be sorry," Gail's voice was gentle now. "You did nothing." 

She drew in a breath. "I don't know Darcy Hawkins' phone number." 

She quickly gave it to her. "She'll be grateful to hear from you." 

Heather wasn't so sure, but she murmured goodbye, assuring Gail once more she'd call as soon as she knew anything. Then she drew in a breath and dialed the phone number. 

This time, the phone rang longer before anyone picked up. Darcy Hawkins' wary voice answered. "Hello?" 

"Mrs. Hawkins? This is Heather Lisinski." She searched her memory, and recalled having met the woman only once. Samuel Hawkins would have been in her class if things had turned out differently. 

There was silence on the other end as Darcy thought of the name. Then she remembered. "Robert talked about you." 

That caught her off guard. "Oh, uh, well...I would've been Sam's third grade teacher...if the bombs hadn't..." Her voice trailed off. 

"Yes, I know." 

"Right." She swallowed hard. "I'm calling because...I'm here in Houston with your husband and Jake Green." 

She swallowed, afraid to hear what she had to say. "Are they alright?" 

"Mrs. Hawkins, they were both shot and they're in surgery. I don't know any more than that." Her voice was apologetic. 

"Okay," her voice had grown much quieter. "You'll let me know when they're out?" 

"Of course. I'll call as soon as I hear anything," she promised. 

"Thank you." 

She hung up the phone and slumped in the chair for a moment, knowing the next call would be the hardest she'd have to make. 

Trish gazed at her. "How'd they take the news?" 

"Shocked. Scared. Pretty much as expected." 

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. 

"Not your fault. But now I have to make another call and..." She swallowed hard and slowly rose to her feet. "I think I need to go outside to make this one." 

She nodded. "I'll come get you if a doctor comes." 

"Thank you," she murmured, slowly heading out of the e.r. waiting room and out the nearest exit. Swallowing hard, she dialed Emily's telephone number with a trembling hand. 

The greeting that Emily gave was not like the others. "Who is this?" 

Heather was momentarily surprised by the greeting. "Em, it's me." 

"Heather," her tone switched to soft, grateful. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm all right. Are you okay?" 

She wrapped an arm around herself and slid down the wall. "Just really worried." 

She paused, wondering if Gail had called her already. "Are you safe? From Beck and his men?" 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm safe." 

"Good," she whispered, leaning against the brick wall. "Emily, I have to tell you something." 

Emily bit her lip. "Jake's hurt, isn't he?" 

"Yeah. He is," she said softly. "Shoulder wound. There was a...a shoot out in Cheyenne." 

She put a shaking hand to her mouth, clutching the phone tightly. "He's going to be okay though, right?" 

Heather opened her mouth to answer, but hesitated. "I think so. He lost a lot of blood, but...I think he'll be okay." 

She nodded a little, mostly to herself. "Has he gotten any sleep?" 

"A little," she murmured, remembering how he'd slept in her arms just a couple nights ago. 

"Make sure he gets more," she said quietly. 

"I'll do my best, but...you know Jake." 

She smiled slightly. "Yeah, I do." 

"I'll keep you updated as soon as I know anything," she murmured. 

"Okay," she said warmly. "Take care of him. He'll need you." 

She shifted uncomfortably. "I'll make sure he gets back to you safe and sound," Heather said softly. 

A tear rolled down Emily's cheek. "His home is with you." 

The breath caught in her throat. "Emily...no. No, it's not." 

"Yes, it is. You just need to realize it. Both of you." 

Heather forced herself to take a deep breath. "I don't think this is really the right...time or place to have this conversation, Em." 

"Just trust me." 

"I'll call you when I hear something," she said softly. "Take care of yourself." 

"You too." 

"I will." She slowly hung up the phone, shutting her eyes and leaning heavily against the wall, feeling guilty and exhausted. And wondering if any of them would catch a break anytime in the near future. Somehow, she doubted it. 

* * * 

Heather sat slumped in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room beside Trish hours later, feeling somewhere between numb and frustrated. "God, how much longer can this take?" 

"Ms. Lisinski." 

She looked up, startled at hearing her name from an unfamiliar individual. She rose to her feet when she realized it was one of the doctors. "That's me." 

He held out his hand. "I'm Dr. Padalecki. I was the doctor overseeing Jake Green." 

"Was," she whispered, her face paling. 

"Oh no, I still am," he said quickly. "Come with me." 

She shut her eyes for a moment, pressing a hand to her stomach as she followed him out of the waiting room. 

He led her down to his office and motioned for her to step inside. 

Swallowing hard, Heather made her way across the room and slowly sat down in one of the chairs, feeling weak-kneed. "How bad is it?" She tried to prepare herself for the worst. 

He sat down across from her, clasping his hands on top of the desk. "The bullet hit an artery in his upper arm," he used his own arm as an example. "It's a good thing you wrapped it as tight as you did, or he would have bled out." 

She shuddered and closed her eyes. 

"Saying that," he took a breath. "He did lose a lot of blood." 

"How bad is it?" she asked again, quietly. 

"We've got the bleeding stopped and patched up the wound and we're replenishing his blood right now. There was something else I noticed though." 

Heather slowly opened her eyes to look at him. "What is it?" 

The doctor leaned forward. "Jake was extremely dehydrated and suffering from exhaustion. Has something else happened to him?" 

The weariness that had been tugging at her for days finally began to sink in at the words and she sucked in a breath, suppressing a sob. "Jake was held hostage by a major from the ASA army for four days." 

He nodded. "I see." 

She rested her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. 

"He's heavily sedated right now, but if you want to see him, I can take you to him," he said softly. 

"Okay," she murmured, slowly rising to her feet. "Wait. What about--Mr. Hawkins?" 

"He's out of surgery right now, in critical condition." 

Heather wrapped her arms around herself, feeling like it was the only thing that would hold her together. "What are his chances?" 

"Barring no complications, he'll pull through," he assured her. 

She nodded quickly, trying to take comfort in the doctor's words. "He has...two kids. A wife," she murmured. 

"I'll see that he has the best care we can offer," he smiled slightly. 

"Thank you." 

"Don't mention it." 

She followed him out of his office and down the hallway to a curtained section of the ICU. She drew in a breath, trying to prepare herself for what she would find on the other side of the curtain. Then she forced herself to step around it, her gaze falling upon Jake's still, pale form in the bed, an IV in his arm and various monitors hooked up to him. 

"You're free to sit by him as long as you like. Talk to him, hold his hand, let him know you're there," Padalecki's voice was soft. "We'll probably lighten the sedation in the next few days, but right now, his body needs the rest." 

"Okay," she murmured, not noticing when he left. She gently touched Jake's hand, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm so sorry." 

The steady rise and fall of his chest was the only response Heather received for her apology. 

She slowly leaned down and pressed her lips lightly to his forehead. "Rest," she whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up." Still touching his hand, she slowly sat down in the chair beside his bed. 

It was going to be a long few days. 

* * * 

The next time Jake emerged to the land of the living, everything was muddled. There were soft voices beside him, their words unintelligible. Shifting his head toward the sound, he tried to sort out the voices. 

"Trish, I'm all right," Heather whispered. 

"You've barely slept," she murmured, crouching down to her level. 

"I dozed off and on all night," she responded. 

"For three consistent nights," she pointed out. 

She sighed softly. "I just need some more coffee and I'll be fine." 

"You can't just live off coffee." 

"I've also been drinking water." 

Trish folded her arms. 

"I'm really fine. I promise." 

She sighed. "It won't hurt to leave for a few minutes." 

Heather closed her eyes. "I promised I'd be here when he wakes up." 

"You can go now," Jake's voice was barely a whisper. 

She jerked her head over to look at him, her eyes widening. "Jake?" 

"Hey." 

She quickly rose to her feet. 

He watched her get up. "Gonna go rest?" 

She gave him a 'yeah right' look and rested her hand on his forehead. "How are you feeling?" 

He closed his eyes. "Drugged." 

Heather glanced at Trish. "Would you go get the doctor?" 

She nodded, quickly making her way out the door. 

She watched her go, then turned her head back to look at Jake. 

His eyes were cracked open again. "How long was I out?" 

"Three days," she murmured, resting her hand on top of his. 

"Huh." 

She bit her lip, letting her eyes fall shut as she stood beside him. 

Gazing up at her, he frowned. "You don't look so good." 

A tiny smile touched her lips. "Gee. Thanks." 

"Just tellin' the truth." 

She opened her eyes to look down at him quizzically. "Well, you look like Sleeping Beauty," she quipped. 

He raised an eyebrow. "I look like a girl?" 

She smirked. "Well...what with the long hair..." 

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks." 

She chuckled and stepped aside as Dr. Padalecki walked up. 

"You woke up faster than we expected," he murmured, glancing over Jake's chart. "Didn't expect you to be conscious until tomorrow morning at the earliest."

"What can I say?" His voice cracked as he tried to step up from a whisper. "I'm resilient." 

"It's okay that he woke up early, right?" Heather asked, her smile replaced once more by an anxious expression. "He's gonna be okay?" 

The doctor nodded, putting the chart back. "He still needs more rest, but he'll be fine if he doesn't move that arm around too much." 

She relaxed, but not much, glancing down at Jake with worried eyes. 

"I'll stay put," Jake said softly, gazing back at her. 

"Promise?" 

He nodded. 

She drew in a breath and looked at Dr. Padalecki once more. "Thank you." 

"No problem. I'll be back later to check up on him." 

Heather nodded and watched him go. 

"Go sleep," Jake murmured once he was gone. 

"Sorry, buddy. You're stuck with me." 

"You need rest too." 

"I've been resting," she said, arching an eyebrow. 

"On and off through the night?" He shook his head slightly. "Not enough." 

"Says he who is recovering from a bullet wound." 

He looked down at his arm, covered in bulky bandages. "I'm fine." 

Heather slowly sat back down in the chair by his bed. "Well, that makes two of us." 

"Sure," he gazed at her. "You've been in a plastic chair for three days." 

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," she joked. 

"That a challenge?" 

Heather gave him a look. 

Jake looked down. "Staying put." 

"Good." 

He closed his eyes once again. "Hawkins?" 

"He woke up yesterday." 

"And?" 

"He's doing okay," she said quietly. "Better than expected." 

"That's good," he licked his dry, cracked lips. "Glad he'll be okay." 

Heather nodded a little. "All right, you need to get some more rest." 

"You too," he put his hand over hers. 

She looked up at him. "All right." 

"In a real bed." 

Heather looked pained, then glanced down at their hands. "Have to settle for the waiting room sofa." 

"You're not staying anywhere?" His eyes opened, now shining with worry. 

"She hasn't left the hospital since we got here." Trish stood in the doorway of Jake's room, arms folded across her chest. 

His eyes traveled to her. "You have a place?" 

"A motel room across the street." 

Heather shot her a warning look, frown on her face. 

"Two beds?" 

She nodded slightly, not looking the least bit sorry. 

"Take Heather there. Now." 

"What? No." Heather glared at Trish, and then at Jake. 

"You want me to rest?" He raised both eyebrows. 

"Okay, that's really unfair," she protested. 

Putting his good arm under him, Jake slowly began to push himself up. 

"What are you doing?" There was alarm in her voice. 

"Come on. You are coming with me back to the motel before you pass out," Trish said, moving forward and taking Heather by the arm. 

"Helping Trish," Jake grunted. 

"Okay, stop! Lie back down. I'll go!" 

He lowered himself slightly, skeptical. "Really?" 

Heather gave him a pained expression. "Yes, really." She sighed softly, pulling away for Trish. "Can I have just a minute please?" 

Trish dropped her hand and nodded. "I'll be right outside." 

Frowning, she watched her go, then raked a hand through her hair, turning to look at Jake. 

"What?" 

She moved over to his side and pulled a cell phone from her pocket, handing it to him wordlessly. 

He looked down at it. "What am I supposed to do with this?" 

"I think you know the answer to that," she said softly, touching his hand lightly before pulling away and heading for the door. 

Jake gazed at the phone for a long moment after she left, the drugs coursing through his system threatening to pull him under now that Heather had left. He fought it though, knowing what he had to do. Flipping the phone open, he dialed. 

She answered on the first ring. "Heather? Is he awake?" The worry in her voice was obvious. 

"I'm awake, Mom." 

There was a brief pause, then, "Oh, Sweetheart. Oh, Jake. Are you all right?" 

"Just tired," he said softly. 

"It's so good to hear your voice!" 

"Yours too. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine now that I know you're all right. You are all right, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay," he looked down at his arm once more as those words left his mouth. 

"Thank God." She sighed softly. "Emily's here." 

"Is she alright? Beck's men leave her alone?" 

Gail drew in a breath. "Beck found Mr. Hawkins' laptop. He realized that Allied States are on the wrong side." 

Jake let out a breath. "Thank God." 

"His entire squad's on our side now," she said quietly. "They let Stanley go." 

"Good, that's good." 

"When are you coming home, Jake?" 

"I don't know," he said softly. 

There was a pause. "Okay, Sweetheart. I'm handing the phone to Emily." 

"Wait, Mom." 

"Okay." 

"Just in case I don't...." He took a breath. "I love you." 

Gail's voice wavered. "I love you too, Jake. You come home to us." 

"I'll do my best," he whispered. 

"I know you will." There was a muffled sound on the other end of the line. 

Then, "Jake?" Emily's voice was anxious. 

"Hey Emily," he tried his best to sound alright to her, even though his neglected voice betrayed him. 

"You sound terrible. Are you all right?" 

"I'm okay. How are you?" 

"I'm fine, Jake," she said, her voice soft. 

"I'm glad," he shifted in his bed. 

"I miss you." Emily sighed softly, pressing the phone closer to her ear. "And I'm really glad you're finally awake." 

"Miss you too," he looked down at the sheets, picking at the stray thread. 

"You may not be coming back." 

"I don't know," he sighed. 

Emily was quiet for a moment. "Look after Heather, Jake." 

"I will...you look after my mom." 

"You know I will," she promised. 

"Thank you." 

"I love you, Jake." Her voice was very soft. "And if Heather makes you happy...I want you to be happy. Both of you. Do you understand what I'm saying?" 

"Emily--" 

"I know." 

"You made me happy too," he said softly. 

A smile touched her lips. "Ditto," she whispered. "But we're not kids anymore. Are we?" 

"Guess not," his tone turned sad, wistful. 

"You're gonna take care of yourself, right?" 

"If I can take care of Heather first." 

"She's not doing very well, is she?" 

"No," he murmured. 

"I didn't think so," she murmured back. 

"She'll get there though." 

"I know she will. She's strong. And she has you." 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"Be safe, Jake." 

"You too." 

"Goodbye." 

"Bye, Em." 

She hung up the phone and shut her eyes. 

Jake dropped the phone to his side, own eyes closing. His heart ached at the goodbye, and he hoped against all hopes that he'd see her and his mom again. 

* * * 

A few hours later, Heather returned to the hospital despite Trish's dissatisfaction at the little amount of sleep she'd managed to get. She'd taken a quick, hot shower and changed into some clothes the other woman had bought at a shop down the street. She peeked her head into Jake's room to see if he was awake or not. 

Jake gave her a disapproving look when she popped her head in. "You're supposed to be asleep." 

"Hey, I slept," she said, holding up her hands. "I've been gone for seven hours." 

"Not long enough." 

She sighed softly. "I kept waking up," she admitted. 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. 

"Not your fault," Heather assured him, stepping farther into the room. "How ya feeling?" 

"Like I've been shot in the arm." 

She winced a little. "Want me to hunt down a doctor?" 

He shook his head. "I don't want to feel numb right now." 

His words made her pause. "Okay." 

"Thanks," he murmured. 

"Do you need anything? Something to eat or...some water?" 

He shook his head. "I'm okay." 

She bit her lip. "Okay." 

"Guessing you haven't seen Hawkins yet." 

A faint blush touched her cheeks. "I came to check on you first." 

He smiled a little. "Thought so." 

She tucked some hair behind her ear self-consciously. "I should probably see how he's doing." 

"Let me come with." 

"What?" Alarm flickered across her features. "I don't think you're supposed to be getting up yet!" 

"I've been down long enough," he struggled to sit forward. 

"Jake." Her voice was filled with fear and uncertainty. 

He gazed at her. "Please." 

She hated when he gave her the puppy dog eyes. It was completely unfair. She sighed softly. "Fine, but you're going in a wheelchair." 

"Deal." 

"All right, stay put. I'll be right back." Drawing in a breath, she turned and headed out of the room, returning moments later with a wheelchair. 

He sat back, letting out a sigh. 

"Your chariot awaits," she said with a faint smile. 

He shook his head a little, pushing off the bed one-armed and swaying when his feet hit the floor. 

"Easy," she said worriedly, quickly wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him into the chair. 

He sat down slowly in the chair, closing his eyes and swallowing at the sudden vertigo. 

"You okay?" she asked softly, bending down to look at him with worried eyes. 

He nodded slightly. "Just dizzy." 

She touched his uninjured shoulder lightly, then moved behind the wheelchair and slowly pushed him out the door, down the corridor and into Hawkins' hospital room. 

As they entered, Jake looked up to find Hawkins' pale face staring back at him. "Good to see you alive." 

"And lookin' better than you," he responded with a smirk. 

"Sure you do," he shook his head. 

Hawkins glanced at Heather, then back at Jake wordlessly. 

Heather got the picture. "I'll just...let you two talk." She turned and headed out the door. 

"You don't--" 

"We need to talk," Hawkins said pointedly. 

Jake turned back to him. "And why can't Heather hear?" 

"Jake, it's okay. Really. I need some coffee anyway." She offered him a small smile and headed out the door. 

"Okay, she's gone," he said shortly. "Talk." 

"I've been talking to Chavez about our situation. We're on the Allied States' most wanted list." 

"Figures." 

"There isn't a way for us to leave Texas alive." He paused. "By land." 

He raised an eyebrow. "What? We gonna swim?" 

"I was thinking more like a boat." 

"You're gonna have to do some convincing," he pointed out. 

"Already been on it, Jake. Fortunately I have some connections." 

"Okay...and what have you gotten us?" 

"There's a barter ship leaving in a week. The plan is for us to be on it." 

"Like stowaways?" 

"Not exactly, no." Hawkins sat up a little. "They've agreed to let us hitch a ride. But the accommodations aren't gonna be luxury." 

"Of course," he muttered, sighing again and rubbing his forehead. 

"It's the best bet we have of making it home alive, Jake." 

"Yeah, I know." 

Hawkins was about to say something else when he looked up and spotted Chavez stepping into the room, Heather right behind him. He nodded slightly in greeting. 

"Hey. Good to see you up and around, Jake," Chavez said, nodding at him. 

Jake nodded back. "Good to be up." 

Heather lingered in the doorway for a moment, her expression troubled, though she remained silent. 

"Heard about your transportation arrangements," Chavez turned to Hawkins. "You think you'll be up for traveling like that?" 

He shrugged a little. "You ever known me to give up?" 

He shook his head, a slight smile on his face. "It's why I asked." 

"What transportation arrangements?" Heather spoke up, looking uncertain. 

Jake glanced at her. "Hawkins secured us a spot on a barter ship to the United States half of the nation." 

"Of course, you're welcome to stay here with me," Chavez said, winking at her. 

"Or...that...." Jake chuckled. 

She bit her lip, dropping her gaze to the floor. "When's the ship leaving?" There was quiet reserve in her voice. 

"Next week." 

Heather didn't respond. 

"You want to stay," his voice was almost inaudible. 

"Well, Texas would be honored to keep you," Chavez offered with a grin. 

"I don't know," she said softly, not looking at Jake. 

Jake glared at Chavez. "I think I'll go back to my room now." 

He was taken aback by the anger in the other man's tone and looked at Hawkins, bewildered. Hawkins shook his head a little. 

Wordlessly, Heather wheeled the chair out of Hawkins' room and down the corridor toward Jake's room once more. 

Murmuring a soft thanks, Jake carefully got back into his bed, arm held close to him. 

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "You need anything?" she asked softly. 

He looked away from her as well. "I'm fine." 

"Right. Okay," she murmured. 

"Should go get more sleep." 

"Actually, I think...I'm gonna go for a walk." 

"You do that." 

She bit her lip and headed for the door, pausing briefly in the doorway. "Jake..." 

"Just...go," he shut his eyes. 

She blinked back the tears that flooded her eyes and left the room quietly, not looking back. 

* * * 

The cell phone Heather had given to Jake began to ring a couple hours later .

Jake looked down at it, sighing. He didn't feel like picking it up, but he did so anyway. "Hello." 

"Hey." Stanley's voice was quiet. 

"Hey Stanley." 

"Heard you're in the hospital." 

"You heard right." 

"Well how are you feeling?" 

"I'm alive," his voice was still flat. 

He was silent for a moment. "What's going on?" 

"Just trying to find a way home." 

"Well, your mom will be happy to hear that. So am I." 

"Heather might not come," he sighed. 

"What?" Stanley sounded truly startled. 

"She doesn't know if she wants to go back." 

"Well...you have to convince her!" 

Jake's hold on the phone tightened. "I don't think I can, Stanley." 

"Why the hell not?" 

"I just can't!" 

He made a noise on the other end of the line that was nothing short of disapproval. "Because you don't want her to come back?" 

"That's not true," he growled. 

"Sure, Jake." His tone was flat. 

"You can't convince someone that doesn't want to listen." 

"How do you know she doesn't wanna listen? Have you even _tried_?" 

"She's barely talked." 

"So, you have no idea why she might not wanna come back?" 

"No, I don't." 

"Dude, you're an idiot." 

His hand was shaking from the grip he had on the phone. "I don't need this." 

"Well, you're getting it anyway. Because if your best friend can't tell you you're being a dumb ass, who will?" He drew in a breath. "Life's short, Jake. Really short. She walked out of your life once. You really ready to let her do it again without so much as asking her why?" 

Jake clenched his jaw, taking the phone away from his ear and shutting it without a response. 

* * * 

It was impossible, but somehow Jake was walking around the front yard of the Richmond's house, trying to figure out how he got there. He knew that unless all the experiences he had just been through were dreams, that this had to be the dream. 

She sat on the steps of the porch, her long hair tousled gently by the breeze blowing. She was gazing directly at him, her hazel eyes knowing. 

"Now I know this isn't right," he murmured in disbelief. 

She rose to her feet, arching an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?" She signed and spoke at the same time. 

"You're...dead," he fumbled with his signing as he spoke. 

Bonnie smiled a little. "Am I?" 

"The way you're acting now," he took a step back. "I'm not so sure." 

"Death is arbitrary, Jake." She gazed at him. "At least it is when you're gone. Because you're never really gone." 

He shook his head. "Who knew an eighteen year old had so much insight." 

Bonnie smirked and moved over to where he stood, looking at him with earnest. "You have to convince her, Jake." 

"You sound like your brother." 

"That's a bad thing?" 

"Right now,...yeah." 

She shrugged a little. "You realize you're actually telling it to yourself, right?" 

"Sure," he muttered, still shaking his head. 

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. "This is _your_ dream, Jake. You're just telling yourself what you don't wanna admit when you're conscious and using my image to do it." She smiled for real, her eyes sparkling. "You were worse at saying no to me than Stanley." 

"Yeah..." He put his hands in his pockets. "You were pretty hard to deny anything to, even when Stanley could do it." 

"If I was still here--" She waved her arms around. "I'd tell you the same thing." 

"I don't doubt that." 

She grinned at him, eyes still bright. 

"How am I supposed to do it?" 

"Just ask her," she whispered. 

"What if she won't talk?" He looked up at her, eyes lost. 

Bonnie gazed back at him intently. "She will, Jake. If she knows you care." 

"You think so?" 

She nodded slowly. 

He let out a slow breath and nodded. "I'll talk to her." 

"Good." She stepped forward and hugged him tightly. 

He hugged her back, shutting his eyes. 

* * * 

"Jake? Jake? Hey." Heather's voice was quiet, worried. 

He jerked his head toward her, eyes flying open. 

She backed away a little, eyes concerned. "Are you all right?" 

It took him a moment to respond as he got a grip on reality again. Once he did, he nodded slowly. 

She bit her lip. "You were...you seemed upset. I thought you might be having a nightmare." 

"I'm fine," he whispered. 

"Okay," she murmured, dropping her gaze. 

"Sit down." 

Heather hesitated, uncertainly flickering across her features as she reluctantly sat down in the chair beside his bed. 

He was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts before he spoke again. "Why don't you want to go back?" 

The question caught her off-guard and for a moment she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. 

"I know it's sudden," he said quickly. "But...I just...want to know." 

She shut her eyes. "There's a bounty on my head, Jake." 

"A bounty?" He frowned. "Who put it out?" 

"Phil Constantino." 

"Jesus." 

"He found out I was the one helping Beck," she said quietly. "Russell showed up the night..." She winced. "The night Bonnie was killed. He said he had to either take back my body or Goetz's." 

"God Heather..." he trailed off, gazing at her, eyes shining. "I had no clue..." 

Her eyes were sad as she gazed back at him. "Well...everything back home kind of imploded at once." 

"You could have told me." 

"When the Rangers locked themselves in the hospital or when Beck had you in that warehouse for days?" 

"Heather--" 

"Jake, I don't expect you to save me." Her voice was quiet. "You've had enough going on as it is." 

"I want to," he said quietly. 

She lifted her gaze to meet his once more. "That's because you're a great guy." *

"And you're an amazing woman." 

"Jake--" 

"Don't," he cut her off. "You are. And you won't change my mind about that." 

Heather bit her lip, falling silent once more. 

"And...you need to come home with me." 

"Why?" she whispered. 

"Because you don't belong here." 

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, closing her eyes. "Yeah. I know." 

"So, come back with me." 

The inflection and urgency in his tone wasn't lost on her and she opened her eyes to look at him once more. "Okay," she whispered. 

He relaxed a little. "Thank you." 

"Never been on a ship before." 

"Should be an adventure." 

A faint smile touched her lips. "Jake?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you," she whispered. 

He looked down at the bed where her hand was resting. Reaching forward, he took it in his. "No, thank you." 

Her eyebrows furrowed a little in confusion. "I didn't do anything." 

"Yeah you did," he murmured. 

She shook her head. "What did I do?" 

He shook his head slightly. "Just...thank you." 

Heather gazed at their hands for a moment, giving his a gentle squeeze. 

He slid over in his bed. "Come here. You need to rest." 

"I don't wanna hurt you," she said worriedly, looking at his injured arm. 

"You'll be okay," he said softly. 

Heather hesitated a moment, then slowly sat down on the edge of his hospital bed, turning onto her side so she lay facing him. 

Jake kept his eyes on her. "Close your eyes." 

She drew in a breath and bit her lower lip, letting her eyes close as he instructed. 

"Now rest," he murmured. "I'll be here when you wake up." 

"You rest too," she whispered, already feeling the exhaustion tugging at her. 

"I will." 

She rested her head against his uninjured shoulder and fell asleep within moments.


End file.
